


Waves crashing in the night

by strikedawn



Category: Free!
Genre: Getting Together, Knight!Natsuya, M/M, Prince!Nao, slow-burn, the au that was born as a prince of Persia au and then it just...went crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 05:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17636600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikedawn/pseuds/strikedawn
Summary: Samezuka takes Iwatobi by force, but not without reason. As Prince Nao of Iwatobi is forced to lower his head before the Samezuka royals, before Natsuya and the rest of the knights, Natsuya starts to wonder why the kingdom of the sea seems so familiar, when he's never left the deserts of Samezuka.But more importantly, he starts to wonder why Prince Nao looks at him that way: as if he can't decide whether Natsuya is his blessing...Or his curse.





	Waves crashing in the night

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, FINALLY I'm writing a fantasy au for Natsunao! I've been dying to do something like this for so long... But, uh, this got a bit out of hand, honestly. The story started as a Prince of Persia (disney movie) au and then... well. Let's just say there's no turning back in time moments in this fic hahaha
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!
> 
> Happy reading!

Sieging Iwatobi is easy.

The soldiers had fallen into every one of Natsuya’s traps like kids following after candy. The fire licks at their armor as they run away, making them scream in fear, but the ocean wind that blows through the legendary city keeps the sound away from Natsuya’s ears. Now that battle is dying down, and the enemies have been almost completely reduced, Natsuya sits back on the high walls that once guarded the city and simply watches, rejoicing in the idea that this was all because of him.

He had opened the doors of the Impenetrable City to his Prince’s troops.

He had commanded them through hordes of enemies, his sword slicing and piercing through every one who dared keep Natsuya and his men away from what was now rightfully theirs.

He had ignited the fires in the east and brought down the walls in the south.

Natsuya smirks, watching as his men shout and sing in their walk through the city, still weary from the battle but too drunk on the idea of success to succumb to it.

Beyond, the palace of Iwatobi seems to glow under the last rays of the setting sun. It’s a beautiful sight despite the curling smoke that still comes out of some of its many windows. The palace rises white in stone to domes bluer than any sky, the thousands of crystals that composing it making it shine like crystalline waters coming to lay on the shore. The structure makes Natsuya think of waves, high and almighty, even though Natsuya has never been around the ocean for long enough to see such waves.

It truly is beautiful. Enough to make Natsuya’s smirk crumble a bit at the corners, as something seizes his heart and holds it gently, but with the promise of more force, if only Natsuya so allows it.

But a hand falls on Natsuya’s shoulder, shaking him from his vision of the palace, and the feeling disappears.

“You’ll never learn to follow orders, will you?” Rin laughs next to him, the sound of it making Natsuya’s smile come back full force. His red hair shines under the sun like the rubies in his fingers; like the blood under his nails.

Natsuya knows he’s not expecting an answer, but he lifts his arm to throw it over Rin’s shoulders, gripping tight, and gives it to him just the same. “Never. And you don’t want me to, either. Someone has to do things right around here, baby brother!”

Rin scoffs, but allows Natsuya’s arm to stay where it is. “I could totally have opened a passageway myself, if only you stayed put for more than five minutes.”

Ruffling his brother’s hair, Natsuya moves to his feet. Shadows are quickly coming from the ocean to put the city to sleep, but no one will be dreaming tonight. There is much to celebrate, but even much to do.

Iwatobi might have fallen, but a city is never just its foundations.

“And where is the fun in that?” Natsuya asks, turning his back to the palace, facing Rin.

A moment later, he jumps backwards over the edge of the wall.

The world tumbles around him, turns on its axis until nothing makes sense anymore. Natsuya sees more than hears Rin shout at him from beyond the tips of his feet, and a pair of startled birds take flight right by his left hip to soar high into the evening sky. The slow-motion of the movement, of the world tilting upside down, should make Natsuya dizzy; but it does nothing except comfort him, and Natsuya lets out a cheer from deep in his chest as the ground rushes up to meet him.

He even dares to close his eyes, letting the smell of sea salt and fire swallow him whole.

Touching ground is as easy as jumping off. His feet plant themselves firmly on the earth with a hollow sound, but it’s his hands that sting from grabbing hold without his usual protection. He grins, relishing in the soft pain. Then he turns just to blow a kiss to Rin, whom Natsuya can see rolling his eyes at him through the distance.

“Show-off!” He shouts, but he’s laughing. He too is giddy for what they have accomplished today.

Something warm and proud curls around Natsuya’s heart.

He is where he needs to be.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke waits for them at the steps of the palace, arms crossed over a wide, naked chest. There is a shallow cut over his left clavicle, but other than that he seems fine. His features are hard enough to hide any tiredness or discomfort, always have been, but his teal eyes shine brighter when Rin speeds up to mount the steps before Natsuya.

If there weren’t more pressing matters, Natsuya would tease him for it.

“You’re late,” Sousuke tells Rin with a frown. There’s ash mingling with the dark paint Samezuka warriors use before battle, and it makes his look even more robust. “Everyone is waiting for you already.”

Rin is unfazed. He lifts his arms to curl them behind his head, smirking all the while as he looks up at Sousuke. “So what? I’m the crown prince! People will wait if they have to.”

“That’s—“

Natsuya reaches the top of the stairs then, and Sousuke’s eyes slide towards him. He nods respectfully, some of the familiarity he shows to Rin lost in the movement, but Natsuya doesn’t hold it against him. He would follow Sousuke into battle blindly and trust him to have his back just the same.

“Sorry, big guy,” Natsuya says, punching Sousuke softly in the shoulder. Maybe Sousuke won’t be overly familiar with him, but that doesn’t mean Natsuya won’t. “We got caught up watching the beauty we conquered today,” Natsuya made a swiping gesture with his hand, signaling at the city behind his back. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

To Sousuke’s benefit, he does take a moment to think about it. But then he shrugs, shaking his head slightly. His short dark hair is far too dirty with ash and dust to even follow the movement. “It’s just a city.”

Rin snorts behind a lithe but calloused hand, eyes mischievous. “You wouldn’t know beauty if it hit you in the face, Sou.”

“Oi—!”

“Come on, come on, didn’t you say people were waiting for me?”

Natsuya can’t help but snort at Sousuke’s expression, and that gains him a glare of teal that could kill a weaker man. Natsuya smiles, asking for forgiveness, but Sousuke was never one to get mad; he shakes his head and follows Rin inside, chastising him once again for strolling around the city when others are waiting for him.

The warmth of dusk makes Natsuya linger outside, eyes turned towards the city. He doesn’t regret what he’s done: it’s hard to feel regret when you believe in what you’re doing. Every drop of blood spilled, every life lost, they are not without meaning.

And still, Natsuya feels something sharp through his heart when he looks at the destruction of the city. Such a beautiful place shouldn’t bear the mistakes of its rulers.

Beyond the walls, the beaches of Iwatobi bid farewell to the sun. The ocean seems to be heard from all over the city, its song a soft lullaby that seems to lull Natsuya to sleep. He’s never been near the ocean before, but the sound is so calming that it seems almost familiar. Soothing, like Natsuya’s own bed back in Samezuka, like his cool sheets after a long day in the hot desert.

The waves seem to come to crash right inside his skull, stirring memories that aren’t his. They’re simple images brought on by the sounds and the smells of the city. He can almost imagine himself with his feet buried in the sand, the warm water lapping at his soles. The sun would look so beautiful, watching it set right in the shore…

Maybe Rin would allow him a day off, before going back home.

But for now, there is still work to do. Natsuya shakes his head and steps inside, letting the silence of the palace wash away the sound of the waves. Soft incense still clings in the air, the white smoke curling over Natsuya’s head non-intrusively. There had been no struggle in the palace, and so, very little damage had occurred within its walls. Only a few windows had been shattered, there where Natsuya’s men had walked down the side of the palace from the top to let themselves in through the closed windows.

The floors are marble, but a long, deep blue carpet guides the way towards the throne room through a very long hallway. Natsuya rounds a corner, and suddenly he’s bathed in warm light, his steps soundless as he walks over the carpet. Then, he stops.

The silence is deafening as he takes in the painted murals in the walls.

They are depictions of moments in time, like an illustrated storybook. Just, there is paint instead of ink, swift brushstrokes instead of words. Natsuya walks slowly with his head turned towards the side, unable to look away from the history of Iwatobi painted in the castle walls.

The depictions are clear enough, but Natsuya fails to see the common thread between them. They need of someone to tell the complete story, Natsuya realizes. The murals are meant to be the backbone for someone’s tale, but there is no one in the silent hallway to tell the story to Natsuya. Only himself, his breath caught in his chest, and the soft bickering of Rin and Sousuke just a bit further ahead, so low that it isn’t enough to pull Natsuya away from his inspection.

But a single image seems to catch all of his attention. It’s a small ship with people on board, all of them wearing soft tunics of white fabric, except one. That one wears silver all over, the long pieces of their outfit softly swaying behind them in the breeze, like mist. The ship had already sailed, leaving Iwatobi behind and towards what seems to be a temple, with high pillars and golden motives.

And still, despite leaving their country, the faces of everyone in that ship are resolute, eyes set forward.

Their determination makes a shiver run down Natsuya’s spine.

_‘Won’t they miss home?’_ The thought assaults Natsuya, coming unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

It’s such a childish thought that it snaps Natsuya back into the present.

“Natsuya!” Rin shouts from up ahead, making Natsuya turn towards him. “Come on!”

The rest of the murals are nothing but a blur as Natsuya runs to catch up, smiling at his friends with just the tiniest bit of an apologetic look. Rin snorts, and even Sousuke smiles a bit at him.

“You know this palace is for me, right?” Rin asks jokingly, hand on the doorknob. “Stop giving it puppy eyes.”

“As long as I get the wine cellars,” Natsuya replies with a laugh.

Rin rolls his eyes, opening the door as he does so.

The gentle murmur at the other side dies with the movement. The room is full of people, from the entrance to the open doors to the balcony. No, the doors aren’t open — they’re shattered, the hinges blown away and shards of glass glittering on the floor. It’s the first thing Natsuya sees, because he’s trained to find every exit in a room the moment he enters.

That, and because every person in the room goes to their knees the moment they step inside, heads bowed until their foreheads rest on the floor.

“My knights,” Rin says, voice soft but proud. “Rise.”

They do so, first lifting their heads to look at their prince, then rising to their feet. They’re all tired and battered, some missing pieces of armor, others missing pieces of flesh. The room is furnished with beautiful wood and soft fabrics, but the strong smell of battle and sweat makes the atmosphere of the room too heavy to handle. It stripes the room of any sense of regality.

For the first time since stepping inside the castle, Natsuya relaxes.

“Prince Rin,” a soldier calls, a proud tilt of their voice. “Iwatobi is yours.”

Cheers fill the room, and then the stomping of the knights’ feet seems to make the foundations of the palace shake. Natsuya and Sousuke join them, celebrating the victory of their Prince.

A slow smile unfurls over Rin’s mouth, showing his pointy teeth.

Natsuya’s own smile is ferocious.

“So?” Rin steps further into the room, Sousuke following him close behind. Night has almost fallen already but the room is illuminated by soft candles, their lights flickering in the breeze and casting shadows on Rin’s beautiful features. “Where is my prize?”

The crowd of soldiers parts to let Rin pass to a small altar, where two knights wait as they keep a third person down on their knees. There is no need for their forceful grip on the person’s shoulders — golden chains weight down the person’s wrists, the skin pale and lithe under the cuffs — but they still grip them tight enough to bruise. The person doesn’t raise their head when Rin approaches, but there isn’t submission in the line of their shoulders either. Their knuckles are white there where they clutch the fingers of the other hand.

The rest of their body is covered by a gauzy tunic, decorated with silver motives of the ocean, as if painted with sea foam. Their face is covered by a soft hood, small coins weighing the fabric down even when the ocean wind picks up and blows through the broken windows. The ends of the tunic pool around them on the floor; there are footprints of soil and blood tainting the fabric, and the very edges are jagged, torn apart.

Rin approaches slowly. He lifts a jeweled hand, and Natsuya only sees it shiver slightly before pushing the hood back, the gentle sound of the coins clinking against each other filling the now silent room. There is reverence in Rin’s movement, and none of his usual bravado.

Then the hood falls over uncovered shoulders, and Natsuya forgets to breathe.

Silver. The person kneeling before Rin is silver incarnated, from the tumbling threads over his shoulders that make his hair to the parlor of his skin, shining with diamonds in the lights of dusk. His high cheekbones are painted with starlight, making them sharper than knives, but his lips are plump and pink, a gentle moment of softness amidst the danger. Natsuya almost expects his eyes to be blue like the ocean, but they are _green —_ the color of newborn grass under the sunlight.

He’s otherworldly. Like the paintings in the walls of this magnificent palace, like the foam gathering at the shores of this country.

He’s the prince of Iwatobi.

And Natsuya has never seen someone so beautiful.

“Prince Nao,” Rin bows his head lightly, and Natsuya’s heart thrums in his chest. “I would like to present to you my respects.”

“By bringing my home to ashes?” Prince Nao asks, and his voice sounds like a wind chime made out of shards of glass: light and beautiful and cutting. “I rather you keep your respects to yourself, Prince Matsuoka.”

Even from across the room, Natsuya can see Rin’s eyebrow twitch. “Iwatobi has received the punishment it deserves. It has come to our attention that you have been using the rich materials of the coast to create weapons for Soufuukan. Iwatobi has proclaimed itself impartial over the years of the War of the Dunes, but we see now that it was nothing but a ploy.”

A furious expression crosses the beautiful features of the foreign prince, but Natsuya wouldn’t know which of Rin’s words has caused his fury. Still, the flicker is gone before Natsuya can even memorize the frown, the pull of the corner of his mouth, and is immediately replaced by an eery calm that seems to settle over the Prince. “Iwatobi has no role in your war,” Prince Nao says, chin held high. “And no interest in agreements with Soufuukan. Besides, there are no—“

“You may lie all you want, Prince Nao,” Rin spats, interrupting the prince. “But we have proof of your treason. Isn’t that right, Natsuya?”

Natsuya gets a cue when it arrives. He lifts his chin and walks to stand by his brother, his own hand resting lightly on the saber at his hip. He knows the splatters of blood mingle with the dark paint his people use before battle, that the cuts and bruises in his body don’t inspire pity, but respect. He knows he looks _dangerous_.

And still, he can’t help but feel surprised when Prince Nao looks at him with absolute horror transforming his features.

Natsuya tenses. He turns briefly over his shoulder, almost expecting to see some kind of monster lurking behind him, anything that would warrant such a terrified expression from a prince that has shown nothing but defiance before his enemies, even when surrounded and chained to the ground.

But there is nothing. It’s Natsuya alone who puts that expression of immense fear in the Prince’s eyes.

And Natsuya can’t understand why.

“…Nat?” Rin asks, and Natsuya snaps back to reality.

“Yes, brother,” Natsuya nods, and turns to the foreign Prince once again. Any trace of emotion has disappeared from Prince Nao’s features once again, and that helps Natsuya slide back into his role as captain, somewhat. He clears his throat and steps just a bit closer to Prince Nao, looking down at him with hard eyes. “We found records of shipments to Soufuukan with iron and other materials signed under Iwatobi’s royal signature. They date to three years back — exactly when you ascended, Prince Nao.”

“Then your records are false,” Prince nao retorts, but his voice sounds strained. “Iwatobi prides itself in being neutral in this war of yours. We do _not_ have any interest in bloodshed.”

“And still, your country is wealthy enough to dress its prince in the most delicate silver,” Natsuya points with a dirty hand towards the beautiful garments that dress Prince Nao’s body. “Just where can anyone find riches like these, if not in war?”

That seems to spike another wave of emotion in the prince. His green eyes harden, his whole body tenses, and even when the cuffs dig into the skin of his wrists and blood floods out to drip from his fingertips, the prince only lifts his chin in defiance, unaware of the pain. “Think what you may. Anyone who knows Iwatobi will rest assured, our path is not that of war.”

And that, those words, seem to spike something in _Natsuya_. There is a part of him that wants to fight back — the part of him that has seen those reports, the part of him that just can’t believe someone wouldn’t benefit themselves from the war others battle. The fire is there, the need to defend what he believes in… but a tight knot at the base of his throat keeps anything he might want to say buried in his chest, stuck between his ribs like vines. He can’t force the words out, and that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

On the floor, Prince Nao keeps looking up at him with intense eyes, but Natsuya is too caught up in the knot of his throat to pretend to know what that gaze means.

None of that matters, though. Rin steps forward at that moment, cutting Natsuya’s argument with the Prince with a single movement of his hand, sharp and fast, just like his sword.

“Enough,” Rin says, voice echoing through the room. “Nothing you say now will undo what has been done, Prince Nao. “Iwatobi will forever be remembered by its treason, and its history will be written with the ashes of its streets. You brought this fate upon yourselves when you signed the agreement with Soufuukan.”

Prince Nao shakes his head, but says nothing. The blood still drips from his fingers, but they lay lax over his lap now, dying the gauzy fabric in deep burgundy.

“…However, the Kingdom of Samezuka is merciful,” Rin keeps saying, red eyes flashing. Now is his turn to show pride for his country. “Show your respect and submission to my father the King when he arrives tomorrow, and you will be spared from the fate you deserve.”

“No.” Is Prince Nao’s resolute answer, and a murmur crosses over the room.

Traitor or not, there is no denying Prince Nao’s courage.

“…No?” Rin asks back, slightly taken back. It’s not usual for prisoners to deny Samezuka’s renowned mercy. They usually beg for it, scream for it—but Prince Nao doesn’t even stop to consider it before the word falls from his lips, swift like a blade. Rin blinks down at the Prince, clearly surprised, but Sousuke pokes his side, a hidden movement away from prying eyes, and Rin returns to himself by straightening his back and clearing his throat. “I don’t think you are in position to say no, Prince Nao,” Rin adds, frowning deeply.

The guards at his sides prevent Prince Nao from rising to his feet, but he still looks taller than before.

Regal, despite the enslaving chains.

“No, Prince Matsuoka,” Prince Nao repeats, and his voice rolls over the room like a tidal wave. He moves slightly, and the chains that hold him to the ground shake. Natsuya sees the blood in his hands hit the marble floors, and the knot in his throat tightens. “Iwatobi will not surrender to you. _I_ will not surrender to you. We have been unjustly accused of a crime we have not committed, and we will not bow our heads to accept your judgment. So punish me if you must. But I will not admit to something I have not partaken in.”

Natsuya is impressed. Just that is a lot, coming from him. His heart is beating fast inside his chest, battling against the vines that surround it.

For a prince of the kingdom of the sea, the fire in Prince Nao’s eyes could burn down an entire forest.

“…Very well,” Rin nods. “Let’s see if this will make you change your mind, then.”

And snaps his fingers.

The doors that had fallen shut behind Natsuya open again, and in march another couple of guards. They are holding someone in between them, a big man filled out with muscle, but he’s barely fighting against the grips on his arms. His attempts to escape are half-hearted at best, barely making his captors struggle to hold him down. The man is easily taller than Natsuya even, with a mop of straight brown hair falling over his eyes. Olive skin glistens with sweat and quickly darkening bruises, but there is no blood on him. And, when Natsuya looks again, he realizes he’s wearing robes very similar to those of Prince Nao, just as gauzy but less ornamented.

He’s no soldier of Iwatobi. He’s something else.

And if Natsuya needed more clues about it… the moment Prince Nao’s eyes fall on the man he tenses, watching the way the guards’ fingers dig into his skin with brute force; he goes completely pale, showing far more fear than when he was being threatened.

Whoever this man is, he’s important to the Prince.

“Makoto…” Prince Nao can’t help but whisper, making the big man lift his head and look across the room, at his prince, with big eyes.

And that’s when Natsuya realizes—he’s nothing more than a child. Barely 17 or 18, to Natsuya’s 24. There’s even some baby fat clinging to the squared lines of his jaw still, some innocence clinging to the green of his eyes — not the same shade as the Prince’s, but something more akin to emeralds.

By the way Prince Nao looks at him, he sees the infantile features in the young man as well.

The guards let Makoto go, and the young man crosses the room in two long strides to kneel by his prince’s side, head bowed, hands shaking. The guards guarding Prince Nao move back as well, and Nao uses his newly found freedom to lift his chained arms and pass them over Makoto’s head, pulling him close against his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Makoto whispers against the prince’s shoulder; Natsuya only hears because he’s standing close to them. “I only managed to get to the Northern gate, I couldn’t—“

“Shh, shh,” Prince Nao quickly shushes him. His bloody hand moves to caress the back of Makoto’s head, fingers threading the soft hair lightly, and the young man lets his shoulders fall. “It’s alright.”

“As you see, Prince Nao,” Rin speaks again, voice loud to speak over Makoto’s faint apologies. “It is not only you who will bear the consequences of Iwatobi’s treason. Your brother here, caught while trying to escape the siege, will be considered as much of a traitor as you. _However,_ were you to pledge loyalty to Samezuka and its King… I can promise you, no harm will ever come to your brother.”

Prince Nao’s hand on Makoto’s hair freezes. The Prince looks at Rin over Makoto’s shoulder defiantly, still pressing the young man against himself. But the glare only lasts for a brief second; Prince Nao seems to let out any ounce of fight left in him with his next exhale, almost a sigh, and the next time he looks at Rin, his eyes are pained. Resigned.

Natsuya feels a pang in his chest that he decides to call disappointment. He had expected the Prince to fight to the very end.

But he’s also relieved to realize the Prince of Iwatobi has weak spots as well. He looks too ethereal for Natsuya’s taste. Almost unreachable, as if he belongs in a castle at the bottom of the sea, instead of among mortals over the sand.

Prince Nao is human, just like Natsuya.

The thought, for some reason, is comforting.

“…If I accept,” Prince Nao starts to say, eyes never leaving Rin’s. “If I submit to Samezuka… do you promise no harm will come to Makoto? To any of my _people_?”

Rin nods. “You have my word, Prince Nao.”

Another murmur goes through the room. Rin’s word is sacred; even at his young age, emissaries from all over the world know that a promise from Rin is worth more than a whole kingdom could afford. If he promised something, he would bleed, suffer, _die,_ before he saw his own promise broken. _That_ is the most important virtue of the prince of Samezuka.

And because of that, Natsuya has the same thought as everyone in the room: that Rin shouldn’t be doing such heavy promises, not when his father the king isn’t around to attest to them. Not when his father hadn’t even gotten word of his deed yet.

Natsuya sighs, but hides his smile by biting down on his lips. Despite his brazenness, Rin is too good of a man.

“…Very well,” Prince Nao says, and moves his arms back to let Makoto go. It’s when Makoto leans back that he sees the red rims of his eyes, the unshed tears making his eyes glisten. It’s very clear he’s unhappy, but he still lets Nao go willingly, and doesn’t even try to stop him when Nao rises to his feet, maintaining instead his position by his prince’s feet.

The Prince is tall, only a couple inches shorter than Natsuya at most. The floaty fabric that surrounded him on the floor blows in the breeze, making his form seem to be surrounded by ocean mist, curling around his body with more gentleness than he has been shown all evening. His outfit clings to his shoulders, showing sinewy muscle under the openings of the top piece, and there where his mid-riff shows, just above the hem of his pants.

There’s blood in his clothes, and on his skin. The places where the guards gripped his shoulders are an angry red now, the skin beginning to shadow over with faint bruises. The coins of his hood clink pleasantly as Prince Nao moves on silver sandals over the marble. It’s the only sound he makes.

He walks until the chain around his wrists forbids him to go further. Then he lifts his hands, presenting his palms to Rin, waiting to be freed from the cuffs. The blood on his pale skin has dried now.

Rin won’t give in to him that easily, though.

“Say it first,” Rin commands.

Prince Nao doesn’t lower his hands, but lifts his chin instead. His voice is clear when he says: “I, Prince Nao Serizawa of Iwatobi, pledge my loyalty to the Kingdom of Samezuka, forever, on the condition that no harm comes to my people from this moment onward. That is my promise as Prince, and my desire as a man.”

Rin nods after a second, satisfied. Natsuya expects him to step forward and free the Prince; he can almost see the cuffs falling to the floor already. But instead, Rin lifts a hand and presents a golden key, not even looking away from the Prince.

The arm is extended towards Natsuya.

“Nat, if you will,” Rin says, but it’s not really a question.

_‘What am I now, your servant?’_ Natsuya wants to ask back. But the tension is still high in the room, and night is here. He knows his men are tired.

But he still allows himself a sigh before grabbing the key from Rin and stepping in front of Prince Nao, lowering his gaze to the small lock on the cuffs before lifting his eyes to the prince once again.

This close, the Prince’s eyes are searching. With Natsuya’s back to Rin and most of the other knights, the gravity of that stare is enough to make Natsuya believe they are alone in the room, only them and the sound of the waves crashing nearby. The moment drags long; Natsuya barely breathes. The candlelights play shadows on the Prince’s features, on the color of his eyes, but they’re not enough to hide the fact that Prince Nao is looking for _something_ in Natsuya. Pity, maybe? A weakness?

Whatever it is, he won’t find it. Natsuya holds the prince’s gaze for a second longer, then lowers it to concentrate on the cuffs. The gold has dug nastily into the pale skin underneath, but Prince Nao makes no sound when Natsuya sinks the key into the lock and the heavy metal slides off his wrists. He doesn’t even allow himself the reprieve of rubbing the angry skin with his fingers. He simply lets his arms fall back to his sides, hiding his wounds behind the semi-transparent gauze of his garments.

Natsuya steps back without a word, pocketing the key.

“Come, Prince Nao,” Rin says, extending a hand towards him, palm up. “You must let your people sleep now. We will celebrate the new friendship of our kingdoms tomorrow.”

Prince Nao’s expression doesn’t change when he places his own hand over Rin’s. He doesn’t comment on Rin’s choice of words, either. He just starts to walk when Rin does, letting Rin show their joined hands between them to everyone in the room.

The room is clearly Prince Nao’s chambers, but they still walk away, walking right past Natsuya in their way out through the door.

Natsuya would be lying if he said he isn’t expecting Prince Nao to turn around, just for a second. There is a part of him that _wants_ the Prince to look back, even if Natsuya can’t find a reason for it.

But Prince Nao doesn’t turn back. He walks away with Rin, hand in hand, and the knights start dripping out after them, leaving Natsuya more and more alone in the room with each passing second.

The moment Prince Nao is out of sight, the sound of the crashing waves disappears.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Kudos and comments are food for this tired (and technically still dying from finals hell) writer.
> 
> Hope to see you next chapter!


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